The Price of Freedom
by ma-chellex
Summary: Princess Rapunzel of Corona has been tried for the murder of her father, the King of Corona, and sentenced to execution by the hands of her stepmother, Queen Gothel of Corona. In her efforts to escape, she disguises herself as a thief by the name of Punz and finds herself aboard Jack Frost's ship, The Moon Clipper.
1. Prologue

Rated T as of right now. Planning to change to M in the future.

Pirate AU (as per an anon's request, hehe)

Prologue

* * *

She can't bring herself to remove her gaze from the patterned bricks on the wall, repeating around her in a tantrum of somber colors. Each brick is a little different—she's had enough time sitting there to notice—but after so many hours, days, months, they have all begun to merge into one color of a dark burgundy red, tainted by the mold and dirt that have grown in the cracks and crevices of the prison cell.

She sits in a daze, the air around her at a standstill, thick with tension but thin with a thawing chill. Her wrists are rubbed raw with the chains that lock her in, concretely glued to the wall behind her. No matter how many times she's tugged in attempt to free her arms, all she can feel is the pull of her muscles as she strains to break free.

Her hair feels greasy, long—when was the last she's been soaked with water and soap? What was once so precious to her—soft as the down pillows in her chamber, as golden as the silky sun, and once so vibrantly clean—is now nothing but a pile of gray straw in a heap at her feet. It screams jittery legs of lice and color polluted with soot.

Her skin—her skin looks paler, she doesn't even know. She wonders what it could possibly look like without a reflection to visualize the effects of being alone for so long. But she hasn't seen the sun in what feels like forever, so how could she be as golden as she once was before? When she casts a glance at her arm, all she can think is: _dirty milk._

She feels dirty despite never going outside. Fatigued despite never making a single step from the room that encloses her.

She's losing hope.

How long will she be here?

She only wants her impending death now—get it out and over with. She hates this, hates waiting around for an even worse outcome.

Kill her now.

The cement below her feels cool against her skin but warm with the hours, days, weeks she's been there.

She can't remember the time—how long has it been?

All she can see are the bricks of the wall, all she can hear is the echo of this dungeon, not a single footstep in earshot, all she can taste is the dirt at the tip of her tongue, all she can smell is fear.

Her own fear.

A tired fear—one that has grown old like a once beautiful fruit rotting to its core.

Suddenly, she hears footsteps.

It takes all of her strength to remove her gaze from the wall, turn to the bars that enclose her in.

She sees large brown boots, rugged and clean. Pants tucked in, neatly pressed at each side. She can't move her gaze higher than the knees—her neck hurts from the standstill.

She makes a sound, a small one.

And then a key drops.

"Rapunzel," the familiar voice whispers.


	2. Chapter 1

Rating: T

Pirate AU

Chapter 1

* * *

"Punz."

The name drawled from his lips, a one-syllable word elongated into the sound of three. His eyes scanned over the petite figure, her mass of blonde hair braided down her back, bright green doe eyes with every ounce of innocence in every pixel of her orbs, and tender limbs with soft golden skin. Her feet shifted nervously underneath her, her hands plastered to her side, afraid to make the slightest move.

"_You're _a thief?" he said, disbelief obvious in his voice as he narrowed his eyes. This young, fragile girl was a thief? Impossible. The men behind him must have had the same thought as they broke out in a fit of deep laughter. He had to hold out his hand to silence them.

"That's right," Rapunzel said, pushing her voice out a little louder, her chin up with a little more confidence than before. "I'm a thief, and I'm wanted for death."

She sucked in her breath, fingers curling together into a tight grip. Well, the latter half was true anyway. But he didn't need to know that she was actually an imprisoned princess wanted for death. No, she needed to keep that a secret, for as long as she could.

Who knew what would happen to her if they learned of her identity?

"Punz," he said again, drawing in closer, encircling her petite frame. "No last name?"

"No, sir."

"Where are you from?"

"A-around here." She paused. "Corona, to be more specific."

"And what did _you_ steal that warranted death?"

"I… I stole the princess's crown," she said. Immediately, she saw the doubt that crossed his eyes—but she was prepared for that, her hand reaching into her satchel to pull out the delicate jewelry, the crystals sparkling under the sunlight.

Immediately, he snatched it into his rough hands, holding it above him, eyes glinting at the colors before dropping it back into her hands. Around her, his crew gasped in delight, eyes widening as they whispered of her amazing achievement. A crown—how glorious. And the fact that it had been stolen by a _girl_ was even more surprising. Her fingers tightened on the crown as she heard their cheers, almost as if she was afraid they'd take away what she had stolen.

Well, she didn't technically _steal _it if it was hers from the beginning.

But they didn't need to know that.

"Impressive," he whistled, but for some reason, the tone underlying his voice told her that he still didn't quite trust her. He raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you want to board my ship?"

"I… I know of someone who will give me what I need in pawning this crown. I just need safety until I reach my designated destination."

"Which is?"

"Burgess. I… I overheard your men saying you were headed that way."

"We are," he said curtly, his voice clipped in such a precise manner, she almost winced at the sound of it. His eyes were beady as they stared at her, cold as ice. "What do we get from letting a woman board the ship?"

"I…" Her grip on the crown tightened. "I'll give you a portion of my profits. I just—I just need a place to stay to avoid the queen's warrant, sir—and safe travel. Please, sir."

"You can cut the etiquette."

"Yes, sir—I… I mean—"

"You can call me Captain. Captain Frost. Or Jack. I don't really care either way," he said as he stopped in front of her, taking her chin into her hand as he forced eye contact. Her eyes widened, her teeth clamping down on her tongue to hold in her squeal. She could see the disbelief still linger in his blue eyes, tugging at the grimace on his lips. His voice lowered into a murmur so that only she could hear, "I don't believe you at all. Who are you, really?"

"I—"

He immediately released his grip before she could finish defending herself. A hint of a smirk danced on his lips. "That's okay—I'll figure it out eventually." He turned around to face the ship, making hand motions to his crew before calling out, "She can come aboard. Don't harm her."

She was a little taken aback, her jaw dropping just ever so slightly before she shook her head from her unconsciousness, safely tucking the crown back into her satchel. A weight fell off her shoulders, relief pouring through her body despite the unknown risk she was taking. Still, they hadn't harmed her yet. For now, she was safe, and better yet, had found a way out of the Corona Kingdom.

She warily followed his footsteps aboard the ship before he halted, turning.

"Punz, meet the crew of The Moon Clipper."

* * *

"You really stole that crown?" the red-headed Scot beside her asked curiously as she walked down the hall, heading toward the small little room that would have to make do as the blonde's new quarters. She wasn't a part of the crew anyway, Jack had told Merida. She didn't deserve anything nice.

"She's still a girl," Merida had replied, rolling her eyes.

"Fine, give her your room," Jack had said, waving her off with a flick of the wrist as he busied himself in manning the deck.

"Hiccup and I sleep there together!"

"Then don't give her your room. Whatever suits you, Mer. I'm busy. Now leave me alone," he had replied, to which she had stomped off in frustration.

"Yes," Rapunzel replied carefully, her grip on her satchel tightening. As the only valuable possession she had other than herself, she wanted to ensure she had it on her at all times.

"That's pretty remarkable, if I do say so myself. You don't meet many female thieves nowadays—and wanted for death at that! Crazy," she laughed as she stopped in front of the dingy door. She turned to the blonde. "So this is going to be your quarters. It's… kind of dank. A little shitty."

She opened the door. Inside were some wooden crates holding up a small, thin mattress, a thin piece of fabric lining the rectangular shape to which they both assumed to be a blanket. A candle sat next to it, old and partially black, the wax melted towards the bottom of the plate. The room was about the size of a closet in her palace, and cobwebs decorated each corner.

Rapunzel swallowed thickly at the sight.

It was obvious they hadn't used the small closet-like space in a long time and had to make do with what they had in order to give her sleeping quarters.

"Okay, a _lot_ shitty," Merida breathed as she scrunched her face at the stench. Her hands waved around the dust collected in the air. "Sorry, Punz. It's… kind of a last resort as we weren't expectin' anymore people on board."

"This is fine," Rapunzel replied quickly. With a warm smile, she thanked the Scot before the girl nodded and left her alone.

Rapunzel let out a deep breath as soon as the door shut behind Merida and sat on the thin, rickety bed, the squeak resounding against the wooden walls. She could finally take a breather; stop pretending to be the peasant that she wasn't.

This wasn't her lifestyle. She didn't know what she was doing here. Was she making the right choice?

She missed the thick, clean walls and the people at her beck and call, friendly and overbearingly much like her deceased mother. She loved them—they were like her family. She missed the village full of dancing, decorated with beautiful lights and paints on the walls, the kingdom's flags strewn from building to building. She missed her father's smile, her deceased mother's warmth.

She missed home.

And then she recalled the warrant for her execution—and this, despite this clammy and grimy lifestyle she wasn't used to, was better than being dead.

She grimaced as she took a look around, hands tightening on her satchel, before shutting her eyes.

This—whatever was to come—this was her life now.

She wasn't Princess Rapunzel anymore.

She was Punz. A thief. A peasant. A girl aboard a pirate's ship.

And she needed to remember that for as long as she lived.

* * *

Jack pulled up a crate on the quarterdeck, sitting himself beside his navigator, hands running against his jaw in deep thought before leaning back with a little leisure. "Burgess. How long do you think it'll take to get there, Hic?"

Hiccup turned his head, raising an eyebrow. "Why? Does this have to do with a little blonde lass you let on board? I'm a little surprised you allowed her to tag along, Jack."

"I know. I saw the look on yours and Mer's face."

"We're just looking out for our crew."

"She's no danger," Jack laughed as he leaned forward. "I know that for sure."

"And what if she is?"

"She won't be," Jack replied, flicking out his dagger and carving small tallies into the crate underneath him. He had a habit of carving lines when his mind was cranking in mechanical motion, each line darker as he forced himself to understand the position they were in for letting the girl aboard the ship. But he knew she was harmless. Whatever she could do—she wouldn't. She needed them. "Regardless, she's hiding something. And I hate liars."

"If you think she's lying… why on earth did you let her come along?"

"She can't hurt us. She's not a thief, despite what she says," he said easily. "There's no possible way. Plus, we kind of really need the money."

Hiccup was quiet as he sat, pulling a leg up under his arm before rubbing his chin. His gaze retracted to the sea, the dark and quiet mass outside, rocking the ship slowly as it sailed. "What, then, do you think she is?"

"I'm not sure yet. But I'll figure it out. She may be a liar, but… she's not here to hurt us." Jack stabbed the dagger into the crate before pressing his palm against its hilt, leaning. "But I won't have any remorse if she's here to betray us."

"You're a good guy, Jack."

Jack laughed. "How?"

"Because you're giving the girl the benefit of the doubt. Any other pirate—"

"I'm not any other pirate," Jack interjected.

"—would have fucked her or… killed her."

"I don't… I'm not here to hurt people. Not innocent people."

"I know, Jack." Hiccup leaned back until he felt the weight of his body sit comfortably on his elbows. "I know."


	3. Chapter 2

This is SO far overdue, and I am so, so sorry.

Hopefully, it doesn't disappoint. If it appears filler-y, I apologize, but I think this chapter is necessary for Rapunzel's character development.

So, happy reading~ c:

Rating: T (with lots of explicit language because... pirates)

Chapter 2

* * *

"Wake up, Little Miss!"

The unfamiliar voice rang through the hollow wooden door that led to her bed space, a deep timber that vibrated in her ears, a knocking in her head telling her to get up and out of her slumber.

The first voice Rapunzel thought of was her father's, kind and warm, which immediately sent her memories of her days in the castle. She thought of her little, delicate hand in her father's large and rough ones as he swooped her through the air and into his loving arms. She thought of running through the gardens and the castles with the young maidens and stable boys only to be lectured later by her mother.

And when she opened her eyes, she expected to find crested walls of gold and the white canopy of her bed though the squeaks she shifted on should have immediately told her otherwise. Instead, Rapunzel's heavy eyes fell upon ashy logs of wood in horizontal fashion, dusted with layers of mud and soot.

She willed herself to close her eyes a moment more, hoping that everything that had happened was just a dream—that she hadn't stupidly whisked herself on a pirate ship or even better, been sentenced to death by the hands of her step-mother.

But when she opened her eyes and saw the same dirty logs, she knew reality was setting in.

She wasn't home.

She was here, stowed away in the dankest part of a pirate ship with suspicious eyes and ears all around her. She sighed as the thought traipsed through her mind, circling her head only to tumble into a ball of anxiety and confusion. She forced her muscles to relax. She had finished the toughest deed of her journey yet—getting pirates to willingly take her onto their ship without being killed. Especially with all those rumors that had circulated the castle: tough, mean, ugly brutes willing to rape and kill any female in their sight. That hadn't happened to her. Not yet, at least.

Things should only get better from here, right?

Right, she told herself, nodding along to the thoughts in her head, as if the harder she nodded, the more likely it would come true.

Her hand shot out for the satchel tucked beneath the side of her bed, sighing in relief as she felt the sharp edges of the crown at the tip of her fingers. Then at the sound of waves crashing on the other side of the door and at the sight of water splashing underneath the open crook, she slowly pulled herself up, hands fiddling with her temples and ratty hair.

"Little Miss? It's time to wake up." Rough knocking began to pace into pounding, and she forced herself to climb out of bed and make the small, groggy steps to the door, whipping it open—only to be hit in the face with a bucket of water.

If she hadn't already been awake, she was definitely now.

"Oops, sorry, Little Miss!" the man before her said almost sheepishly. She barely caught the hint of his apology under his gruff voice and watched under wet hair as he gave a tiny grin before continuing, "I was tryna' clean your door—swears to gods, I didn't mean to hit ya in the face."

"It's… it's fine," she squeaked. She shook her head of excess water, took the base of her arm and wiped down her face. Her hands slid to her rubbery lips and crusty eyes before wiping back her now soaking hair. Her fingers seeped through the dark heavy strands, peeling them up and out of her forehead, one by one.

Well, that was one way to start the day.

"I'm Hook Hand, by the way, Little Miss."

"Punz." She almost dipped into a curtsy out of habit but immediately straightened herself out as soon as her fingers brushed past her non-existent dress. To cover her mistake, she wiped down the front of her damp trousers as if there was water that she could still flick off.

"Oh, I know who you are," he said with a smile. She watched him curiously, to see if he had noticed her mistake, but Hook Hand didn't look a bit fazed. Thank God, she couldn't help but think. "They haven't stopped talking about you since you got on board."

By they, she assumed the rest of the crew. And by that, she wasn't sure if it was good or bad.

It was then that her eyes wandered to the big bucket in his arms before noting the soaking hallway, random puddles of dark, salty water spudded with bubbles splattering across the planked floor. "What on earth…?" she began, a little dumbfounded.

"Oh, today's cleaning duty, Little Miss. Gotta scrub the floors, make sure the ship isn't too filthy." The large man peered down at her, grinning. She took that moment to let her eyes wander and size him up—he was big, probably twice her size, with a hook screwed in one hand and bulgy eyes and bushy eyebrows, paired with side mustaches that followed the deep lines around his mouth. His face was scary, but his eyes twinkled kindness. And in that moment, she knew he wasn't there to hurt her, if ever. He looked like the brutes of the rumored stories in Corona, but he didn't seem like one. And that was enough for her. "And Cap'n Jack told me to stop by your quarters and give you a wake-up call. Said he didn't think you knew what time you were s'posed to be up."

The small window that was tucked at the end of the hall gave her a good peek of what was going on outside—and that was that it was still pitch black, vigilantly lit by a few dainty stars. "The sun hasn't even risen."

"Well, if we waited until the sun rose, we'd never get anything done around here!" he laughed heartily. "Now, Cap'n Jack said to give you a few minutes to get yourself together and then you're to follow me to your duties."

"My… duties?"

"Well—you didn't think he'd just let you on board without helpin' out, didya? Cap's all about putting in the amount of effort that you wanna get outta somethin'." He pat her on the head, and she flinched at the large hand that casted a shadow over her face. "You're a small one, aren't ya! Don't worry. We'll find somethin' for you to do around here. Now, I'll just finish cleaning up down this hall, and when you're ready, we can get going."

"R-right," she squeaked as she fell back inside her room and closed the door behind, leaning her head against the wood. A long breath released from inside of her, one she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.

God, what had she gotten herself into?

* * *

"This, Little Miss, is the galley," Hook Hand said as he swung a pair of doors open. "Food goes 'ere. As does our cookin'."

"I… I see," Rapunzel said timidly as she followed him inside.

The galley—or what she assumed was the kitchen—was a small compartment with enough space to cook over the burning stove and maybe take one step to turn around to season and cut the dry meat. In the opposite corner, barrels of dry food were stacked barrel upon barrel, keenly far as possible from the lit fire. She barely had enough room to squeeze inside what with Hook Hand next to her. She didn't know how they managed to cook in the small room without suffering from the heat or accidentally pushing the other into the fire.

"It's really small in here," she managed to sputter out, a mixture of a cough and a wheeze filtering her lungs, twirling with the smoke.

"Perfect for a lil' lass like you!" Hook Hand turned and smiled at her, and Rapunzel grinned weakly in reply. "But you won't be doing the major cookin'."

"I—_I'm_ cooking?" she said with wide eyes.

Rapunzel had never cooked a meal in her life. She had always had chefs preparing for the entire household. She could prepare small things every so often, but she had never been taught to feed herself otherwise. Baking, even! She could do that. But God knows there was no baking to be done on a pirate's ship. And she wasn't sure if putting her in charge of a stove with bursting flames near dry food on a wooden deck was… well, the _smartest _idea.

"Sure you are! You and Atilla, our galley cook! He should be here any minute now to show you the ropes—"

"Hook Hand, I don't know _how_ to cook," she said honestly.

"How can you not know how to cook? Doesn't everyone learn when they live on the streets?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She mentally slapped herself in the forehead—_of course people on the streets knew how to cook_.

"Well… Well, yes, that's true," she murmured miserably. She couldn't tell him she had never learned because she had been fed all her life. God, would that be a laugh. She was a peasant—_of course_ she knew how to cook. At least the basics.

She swallowed thickly. She hoped so.

* * *

Or not. _Or not, or not, or not_.

"Atilla—I… it's…" she managed to squeak out as she shrieked at the fire bursting in front of her face, barely managing to duck out of the way as it exploded a chunk of wood in front of her. When she looked back up, the skewer of meat she had meant to roast had fallen to crisp and ashes. She turned to the man behind her who had been slicing meat, and with teary eyes, she whispered, "I—I'm so sorry."

Atilla sighed.

A man with little words, he took most matters into his own hands. When Rapunzel had over seasoned all of the meat, and wasted salt with it, he gently took the can away from her and moved her to the knife without saying a word. He carefully showed her the tips and tricks to saving as much meat as possible with the sharp edge, carving delicately though as quick as a fox.

But that, too, fell into a puddle of failure when she kept nicking herself. By the time he took the knife away, she had cuts all over her fingers, and he had to take a break and help bandage them together.

Finally, he moved her to the stove. Though the most dangerous of all duties in the galley, he trusted that she could do it—all she really had to do was stick the skewer in and count a few numbers in her head, or at least wait until the meat had grown dark. But it was like everything kept getting in the way—her hands, her clothes, her hair—and the skewer would probe a piece of wood as she tried to adjust herself, and within seconds, she would do something that led to a burst of flames, burning the meat to ashes.

"I think… it would be best if Hook Hand found you another place to fulfill your duties," Atilla said quietly as he gently took the skewer out of her hands. He said this with kindness, but Rapunzel couldn't help but feeling as if everything she touched just went _wrong_. "Don't worry. I'm sure there's something for you to do."

"O-okay."

* * *

But she had a feeling that he was completely and utterly mistaken.

By mid-afternoon, Rapunzel had already been squandered around to multiple tasks, and with each one, failing miserably.

When she was catered to help reel flags, she found herself strewn under the heavy fabric as her muscles spazzed under the pull. When Hook Hand tossed her over to the carpenter to help sand down wood, she would find herself often over sanding as well as pricking herself with splinters among all of her fingers until they felt so sore, she couldn't work.

"Goddammit—give me the flint! You keep knocking dents into everything!" the carpenter had snarled at her, a portly yet thick-muscled man with an inkling of a five o'clock shadow. She flinched when he grabbed the rock out of her hand and tucked it away. "At this rate, we'll have plates with holes in the middle!"

"I—I'm sorry, Snoutlout," she had said. "I can do better."

"Don't even bother. Go find Hook Hand. Get yourself another job. If this was real, you'd be fired."

After that, Hook Hand tried throwing her at the gunner who had pretty much said the same thing after she kept wrenching the screws in the cannon the wrong way. Then to the boatswain. And if all else failed, Hook Hand said maybe he'd just toss her with Hiccup the Quartermaster and Navigator, and really only because his patience was far more superior to anyone else on deck. "Honestly though—is there anything you _won't_ mess up?"

He had said this with a grin, but she could tell his patience was wearing thin. And she was trying. She was trying _so hard_, she could feel tears brimming with frustration each and every time she ultimately failed. It wasn't like she was giving up—more like, they were kicking her out.

She had never realized living outside the castle, being a peasant—or a pirate in this case—had required so much energy, so much to memorize with nimble fingers and a sharp mind. Rapunzel had always excelled in her studies at home—but that was different. Needlework, global studies, maps and chartering, baking, even equestrian skills—those seemed all futile in the real world.

But nonetheless, she was going to find _something _she could do it. Even if it brought her to tears, she was going to help around somehow. She refused to be a useless, porcelain doll.

"Stop."

Her head snapped up at the sound of a sharp and crude voice. Hook Hand had introduced her to the master gunner, Tuffnut, where she was told that if this didn't work out, it was off to Hiccup once and for all.

Rapunzel didn't want to reach that point—not because she was afraid of Hiccup. But because reaching Hiccup meant that she had failed.

And she didn't want to fail.

But seeing the disdain in Tuffnut's eyes told Rapunzel that meeting Hiccup was closer than she would have preferred.

"What are you doing? You're gettin' blood everywhere!"

Rapunzel looked down at her tiny fingers enclosed around the daggers he had instructed her to clean. He had said he actually needed her help in sifting gunpowder but with all the stories he had heard of her lack of abilities, he didn't want to risk it. But now her hands were pilfered with blood as she used one hand to wipe the swords down with a rag and the other to hold the sharp edges. Her eyes were so distracted with ragging the edges down that she hadn't even noticed the blade slicing her skin.

"I… I didn't notice," she said quietly. Then she looked up, and in confident manner, said, "But, I'll do better."

"I don't need you to do better later—I need you to do better _now_. This is the simplest job! How can you not even get this right? There's no point in wiping the daggers down if you're just going to filthy it again. Your blood is _everywhere_."

"I'm sorry," she said for what felt like the millionth time that day, her voice timbering over into a tremble. She narrowed her eyes. She would _not_ cry. Funny how on the ship, her blood was considered filth, and at home, her blood was considered filth. Was there anywhere where she _wasn't_ considered filth? "I—I won't cut myself anymore."

"Goddammit—you're fucking useless aren't you? Just give me the dagger. I'll go grab Hook Hand to find you some job you won't screw up—" Tuffnut's eyes caught onto a figure walking on deck, a tuft of white hair grabbing his attention—"or better yet, I'll get Cap. He'll know what to do with you. Cap!"

Jack, who had been heading to the wheel to talk to Hiccup, heard Tuffnut call out his name. He wasn't one to ignore a call, but Tuffnut looked like he was going to ramble on about unimportant things, and at that moment, he needed to talk to Hiccup more than he needed to listen to Tuffnut.

That was, until his eyes caught sight of the distressed blonde curled sullenly on the floor, her fingers flicking the dagger that had now bloodied her hand.

He sighed as his hands pulled at his hair. He could already tell that whatever Tuffnut was going to talk about concerned the girl and her bloody hand. What with the stories he had heard all day, he wasn't surprised in the least to find her with such a lack of ability for… well, everything. From what he could tell, she was pretty useless. He snorted at the thought—a thief who couldn't do anything. What a surprise.

But she was on his ship now. And so whatever she did, it concerned him.

Plus, that goddamn bloody hand. Something needed to be done about that, and honestly, what kind of Captain would he be if he just let her sit there crying over something so dumb? He groaned internally and knew he had already decided the verdict of the argument in his head.

Jack's eyes followed their way to the wheel where Hiccup was talking to Merida. Hiccup could wait anyway.

"What is it, Tuff?" Jack said, his voice flat as his eyes scanned the blond lad over. Tuffnut had a habit of complaining more than he should, and Jack had learned to tune him out, but at that moment, he just wanted to get to the point so that he could get that hand treated and be on his way to Hiccup to talk about navigation plans.

"Your new blonde lass," Tuffnut said, his voice dripping with irritation, "is what's pissin' everyone off today. You go and assign her to anything, and she literally fucks it up. Don't know what's in you to take a dumb wit like her—"

"Cut it," Jack interrupted sharply, his voice like knives. His voice startled Rapunzel, who was still keeling over the dagger in her fingers. She lifted her head, eyes full of surprise. "She's one of us now. And you treat her like she's like anyone else here. You should know that, Tuff."

Tuffnut huffed, but he knew Jack was right. A ship of pirates was all for equality, and belittling anyone on deck could easily send you to flogging. And that, in itself, was not worth the pain. "Yeah, well—do something about her. She's gettin' on everyone's nerves today. Fucking useless."

Jack turned a blind eye to Tuffnut's last words before shifting his gaze to the petite blonde on the ground. Her eyes peered up at him innocently, and amusement struck a chord in his nerve.

A thief who didn't know how to thief. How ironic.

He crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow as he leaned his weight on one foot. "For some reason, this doesn't quite surprise me."

Her guard immediately shot up, and she narrowed her eyes. "I know what you're going to say—"

"That you're still a liar?" he said with a wry grin. Not that that really surprised him. Since the beginning, it was obvious she was lying. But he was just waiting for her admit it. That, or prove that she wasn't. But so far, she was failing pretty hard in the latter course.

"That I'm not a thief—"

"Because you're not—"

"But a thief doesn't need a dagger to be a thief," she argued. He had to admit, her determination to make him believe her was quite amusing, even almost attractive. But that didn't change that she was lying.

"Maybe not a dagger," he said as he crouched down until they were eye-to-eye. Rapunzel could sense the amusement radiating off him—he thought this was a joke, and he wasn't taking her seriously. And that, quite frankly, irritated her. "But maybe at least a pocket knife. You'd know what I was talking about—if you were a thief."

"I _am_ a thief," she said, her voice thick.

Jack didn't say anything further and instead, let his gaze shift to her hands. He pulled one to him, inspecting the slight damage before shaking his head slowly. "You're the first, you know."

"The first to what?"

"The first to cut themselves this extensively because they were cleaning swords." He laughed as he tore a strip of cloth from his ratty blouse. He let his knees drop as he covered the wounds on her hands, his fingers careful and nimble as they danced around her cuts. "It's pretty pitiful, to be completely honest. But there, that should do it for now. If they hurt later, just stop by my room. I have some antiseptics I grabbed in Corona. But let's not waste it unless necessary."

"You don't have to treat me so carefully," she sniffed as she pulled her hand away. "I can tear my own strip of cloth and treat my own wounds. And if you leave wounds like this without cleaning them up, it only gets worse. You should be more careful, especially if you're treating your other men like this. Bacteria infect the skin and start eating away at the tissue if you leave it unwashed for too long, and sooner or later, you'll have to cut off the hand—" Rapunzel stopped herself before she could say anything more. What kind of idiot would babble about bacteria, especially a poor, stupid one who had never had any ounce of education? She might as well spill her secret right then and there. "Right. I'm sorry. I meant to say thank you."

Jack gave her a strange look, but she refused to say anything more. He shook his head and sat back, amused. "You know, I've heard stories about you all day long—about how you can't lift heavy weights, almost burnt our ship down, splintered yourself _sanding—_with a piece of flint of all things—, even almost flooding one of the rooms with the boatswain. You're quite useless for doing things normal thieves should be doing to survive. Lifting, cooking, mopping… What are you, a princess?"

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to defend herself before he cut her off with his own laughter as he helped pull her up from the ground, shaking his head. Immediately, she knew to keep her mouth shut before she said something stupid because apparently, it had been a joke. To him, at least. And then,

"There's no way. You may be useless, but God, what princess would be stupid enough to board a pirate's ship?" he laughed.

Her mouth felt dry, and she forced herself to swallow the remaining spit.

Her, apparently.

The irony in it all.

"What, Princess, _can_ you do without burning the ship down?"

"I'm not a princess," she immediately retorted.

He gave her a half-smile. "Maybe not in real life. But you might as well be the princess of our ship—as useless as you are. Now, Princess, please tell me you can do _something_."

She wanted to argue with him, she really did because yes, so it seemed that princesses were useless. Hell, she even thought so what with her lack of ability to do anything in the real world. But it was insulting, and she didn't appreciate it. "Princess" sounded more like an insult than a nice little nickname or honorific, and she wanted to tell him to stop. But arguing seemed futile, and it didn't look like Jack was really moving from his stand any time soon. And it wasn't like it was _godawful_ that he was calling her Princess. It seemed, at least, that he didn't suspect her of being the missing princess of Corona, and that was a good start as any—even if he still didn't believe her to be a thief.

Amusement rang in Jack's eyes, and it was obvious he found her more amusing than he did a burden, which, she told herself was more positive than negative despite feeling like she couldn't do anything right. Though he didn't quite _trust_ her, he still regarded her as… well, as something.

And that felt better than nothing.

He raised an eyebrow at her silence. "Please tell me you can do something around here."

* * *

"Cleaning," Jack said with mockery in his eyes and voice as he watched her drag soap from out of the stock room.

After Rapunzel had told him she had a rather grand idea for the ship and asked to see the stock room, Jack had had to give her a momentary pause because he had still needed to discuss location at sea with Hiccup. By the time he got back to her, she was itching for him to give her his keys so that she could grab some supplies.

For what, she wouldn't tell him at the time.

But now that he was standing there watching her, he regretted ever thinking it may be a good idea to let her choose her own duty aboard the ship.

Rapunzel looked almost giddy to find the barrel of cleaning supplies tucked away. Sure The Moon Clipper had a boatswain whose main duty was to just keep the ship tidy and neat and throw water everywhere, but there wasn't anyone who actually _cleaned_. There was no time for spotless floors and flags and clothes—on board, no one cared for something so simple and useless when things would get dirtied soon anyway.

But apparently, she cared.

And it was going to be enough, she told herself.

"You asked if I could do something useful, and cleaning is what it is," she said with a smile. "I can promise you a spotless ship if you give me a day. And clean clothes too!"

"We have a boatswain."

"Yes, well, this is _real_ cleaning. Not dumping water across the planks and hoping that will suddenly kill all the germs-" she stopped herself before her mouth could ramble on more about bacteria and germs. What was wrong with her? Rapunzel sniffed inwardly and then slowly continued, "I'm just saying, I can make this boat _actually_ clean."

"Princess, if you haven't noticed, we live at sea here. A clean boat and clean laundry doesn't bode well with salt water flying everywhere," he replied dryly, his back leaning against the wooden wall. He lowered his eyes, the bright blue color darkening under his lashes as she met his gaze. They were dark with disapproval and regret, yet bright with amusement. She wasn't sure which was better: that he didn't agree with her choice of duty or that he found it funny.

She was going to go with the latter.

"Well, then—we're going to change that," she found herself saying, her voice firm.

"You can't really change the salt water that flies around."

"Doesn't matter. I'm going to do what I can to give The Moon Clipper a clean and shiny look," she replied with confidence.

Jack was quiet for a few minutes, and she almost thought he wouldn't let her follow through with it. But she desperately wanted to if only to prove that taking her on board wasn't a bad idea and that she was just like any other thief and just like any other peasant. She could do it—she just needed the chance—"Okay."

Her eyes lit up though she wasn't quite sure if her ears had heard correctly. "Okay?"

"If that's what you want to do around here, I don't see why not. Your efforts may be rather… stupid," he said as he narrowed his eyes, but the smile on his lips told her that he thought it was a little amusing—almost refreshing—how much she wanted to clean the ship despite knowing the impossible outcome, "but if that's what you want to do. It's not like it's going to harm anyone. Plus, I think it's better than having you burn my ship down or go off and injure yourself elsewhere."

She couldn't believe her ears. Captain Jack was _agreeing_ with her. He was _trusting _her. She had never thought something so small could feel so wonderful, but it felt good, knowing that she could be useful, even if he thought her ability was useless. The urge in her voice and sparkle in her eyes gave away her excitement immediately. "Really?"

"Really." He ruffled the top of her head. "Just because I don't necessarily trust what you say doesn't mean I think you're a bad person—you're on this ship now. Which means you're to be treated like anyone else."

"Thank you." So he didn't trust what she said—but at least she… at least she _meant _something here.

Maybe Captain Jack wasn't so bad.

Suddenly his voice was lighter, almost carrying into the wind, but she could hear the frost in his tone, every inch of every word. "But if you betray me or any one of my men, I can't say I'll have the same sentiments."

It was a warning, she realized as he walked away.

He may not have liked liars. He was even calling her out to be one, but it was okay—for now.

But a betrayal would send her off the ship, and most likely, left for dead.

She closed her eyes.

That wouldn't—_couldn't_—happen. She was on this ship for one reason and one reason only—Burgess.

Because when her maidens had helped her escape, they had told her Burgess: with rich soil and thick trees, their land was mined with mountains of gold and silver. The kingdom was a beauty and flocked with wealthy men from all over. They had said one man, in particular, would give her pounds of gold for her crown.

And she needed to get there, get to _him_.

Pawn her crown. Get the money. And live her life with a new identity.

Her heart clenched as she thought of her country, now in the palm of her stepmother's hands. She was scared, yes—for what was to come, but also of what could befall upon her kingdom in a woman with such treacherous intentions.

But no, she couldn't go back.

No matter how much she wanted to.

Pawn the crown.

Get the money.

And live her life.

There was no turning back.

And if it meant learning how to live in the world of pirates, if it meant screwing everything up under everyone's suspicious scrutiny, then so be it. She was going to be one of them, even if it killed her.

Because being one of them was safer than staying home where a rope was calling her name and neck.

Sure, she screwed up today. A lot. But it was going to get better. She was going to make sure of it.

Because really, what else was there?

On the bright side, she was sure Captain Jack hadn't caught on to much. He may not have believed she was a thief, but he didn't think she was a _princess_.

So she was safe.

For now.

* * *

Captain Jack flicked wood chips in his palm, letting the prickling edges map out the curves of his hand and poke the first layer of his fingers. His eyes watched the way the lines blended in the dark, the color vastly contrasted to his pale skin but the shades of brown blurring into one. Then without a second thought, he tossed it in the air and arched his arm, throwing them into the sea.

He listened for the -_plop!-_ as the chips fell into the water before leaning forward, resting his body against the railing. He was turning over the events that day, calculating and recalibrating his thoughts and his decisions, if any, come future. He wished he could stop—stop thinking about Punz and her weird sentiments and her lack of ability and her obvious lies. He snorted to himself. Whoever was stupid enough to believe the girl's lies was just that—stupid. _Beyond _stupid.

Because he had to be honest—Punz was probably the worst liar he had ever met.

She wasn't a thief. She couldn't even _pretend_to be a thief, only say it vocally.

She was too... too innocent, like she didn't know anything about the streets, about real life, about _people, _even. Not only did she not look the part, she sure didn't act the part. He wasn't sure why she was still trying to make him believe it.

But it was hard for him to stop thinking about her. Because now he had to decide: if Punz wasn't a thief, then what was she? And would it hurt or help in the long run? He had taken her on board because he had needed the money. But was it really worth it?

She wouldn't hurt them. He knew that. But if she wasn't a thief, then... what was she running from? And would _they_ hurt them?

He shook his head and, with his hands tightly wound on the railing, leaned back until his neck craned out so that his eyes could look above at the mass of darkness. Only time would tell, he guessed.

But he was going to figure it out because his crew's safety meant everything. And if she posed a threat, she wasn't worth the money. And he was going to need her off the ship.

Jack laughed darkly to himself, then said quietly, his voice sardonic and raging with disbelief, "She talked about _bacteria_." He couldn't help but bark another spout of laughter. _Bacteria_. Like she _knew_ bacteria. Like she knew and studied it. He couldn't imagine a single kid on the street who would even know what the hell bacteria was.

Peasants didn't know bacteria.

He shook his head. God, Punz really was the worst liar. He didn't know much about her now, but with the way she was throwing clues all over the place, he was going to get to the bottom of it soon enough.

And then, he would make his decision whether he'd like it or not.


End file.
